


Duration Plus Six Months

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-24 13:55:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14955923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: The war had consumed their thoughts, not to the sole exclusion of everything else, certainly, but still enough that the thought of NOT fighting, not dealing with HQ, not being together, well, it was rather daunting.  Well, particularly that last part.  What would they do, where would they go?  They each had to wonder about that; each were reluctant to let go of what they had so unexpectedly found in the midst of war, this brotherhood and more.  Was what they'd built so painstakingly just to fall by the wayside?





	1. An Uncertain Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd sworn to do his best to train, lead and protect them. Well, that he'd done. Now he wanted to offer them more, the chance for something better than a life sitting in a prison cell, better than a life ending at the end of a shiv on a cold concrete floor, better than some make-do existence on the fringe edges of society. Maybe, with a little help and a lot of luck, he just might be able to swing it.

Hell, yes, they wanted the damned war to end! They'd have to be out of their minds not to! It was just, what happened next? Yeah, the military had pulled a switch on them; instead of that one job to get their parole, all of a sudden in the middle of that first mission it had turned to 'duration plus six months'. Alright, they'd accepted that, not like they'd had a heck of a lot of choice; they hadn't been all that trusting in that 'contract' anyway. And they'd done their best to do the job they'd been given.

Well, yeah, they'd had some fun along the way, and those accounts in Switzerland had seen some nice additions, now amounting to some very nice balances. But they'd also been shot, stabbed, beaten and more; they'd jumped out of airplanes and off moving trains; had dangled upside down inside of ventilator shafts and almost gotten blown up more than once. The Mansion was where they were residenced, not their home, though they had made it more theirs than the military would ever know or ever approve of. They had made some friends, and a goodly number of enemies. The village had come to accept them as one of their own, as much as any not born there could be anyway. The Dragon and her family had basically adopted them; Goniff first, then Lieutenant Craig Garrison and the rest; they had found more than they had ever envisioned finding, both at the Mansion and down at that cottage on the outskirts of the village - warmth, acceptance, love. 

Most of the time they didn't dwell too much on the future; hell, they all knew it only took one misstep, one stray bullet, one second off on a timer and they wouldn't have a future to worry about. The letters from home, well, for the three who got letters, they talked about 'after you come home'; they put on their most optimistic smiles and wrote back, playing into that mood. But when they lay down their pens, sometimes they'd just sit there, thinking about what they'd written, about all those plans, and wonder whether that was really what they wanted. 

Goniff had already started preparing his mum and Aunt Moll for the fact that he wasn't intending to come back to New York, not to stay, not that either of those two were getting the message. He still wasn't confident he'd survive the war, or that the military wouldn't send him right back to Sing Sing, never mind the agreement. He WAS confident that if he had a future at all, it was with Meghada, the Dragon; if he would've sat down and been honest with anyone about it, he could have told them that he didn't really want to think about a future, if it wasn't with her. As for Craig, well, as much as he wanted Craig to be part of their future, would fight for that, he knew quite well the military would never stand for the ongoing relationship, and while they'd discussed 'after', the words and the promises, spoken and unspoken, well, he still had some long-seated hesitation about reading too much into those. He knew, really believed Craig WANTED to be with him and 'Gaida, but 'want' doesn't always cut it, not when the military is concerned. But a future with Meghada, with Craig? He couldn't imagine anything finer. But, being as he didn't talk easily about such things, thought saying something like that sounded like something out of a really bad novel, while others may have guessed some of that, they didn't hear it directly from him. 

Casino hadn't made any attempt with planning out an after-the-war life, figuring he'd deal with it if and when; that was his usual style of coping, and there was no reason for this to be any different. His family were generous correspondents, keeping him fully apprized of who got married, who had babies, who had just been sent to jail, who had just gotten released, all the essentials. His letters to them mostly replied to all that, but telling them some, as much as he felt comfortable with, about the guys. Hell, some things, he didn't even talk about with HIMSELF, much less anyone else; he sure as hell wasn't gonna put it in a letter. 

Chief didn't have anyone writing to him, anyone he was writing back, at least not anymore, not after Christine had gone her own way; he knew whatever family he had, they were right here, his brothers-in-spirit, his new sister and her family who had welcomed him; he didn't make plans, not of any kind, for after the war - he didn't want to think about being separated from the ones who now meant so much to him, accepted him so thoroughly, yet he couldn't envision any other outcome; it was a bleak thought, one he hid deep within himself. 

Actor carried out a vigorous correspondence, personal and business, some through regular channels, some otherwise. There were many places he could go; many places he was known, although by a variety of different names. There were acquaintences of all types; beautiful, elegant women around the world, both known and yet unknown; accounts and properties in more than one country. He found it rather disturbing, even slightly annoying, this attachment he had formed for this disparate and unlikely group of men and that exceedingly odd O'Donnell woman, one who seemed to have almost as many names, or maybe titles, as he did. It was quite unlike him to have done so, become so attached, and it made him uncomfortable at times, like he'd changed without him noticing. He was also uneasy with the growing affection, perhaps more, he felt toward Garrison's sister, Lynn. She was hardly his type, but there was just something about her. However, as he had never been much for conveying his plans, his intentions via his correspondence or elsewise, no one questioned his lack of forthwrightness now, though some made suggestions, gave invitations, offers, of course.

As for Lieutenant Craig Garrison, his world had pretty much turned upside down during this long war. Yes, he had family in the States, some elsewhere; his sister was here in England, at least part of the time, working with various intelligence organizations, even sometimes with his own team. She knew of his metamorphosis, had witnessed a good deal of it. She would understand that the end of the war, (at least, the war plus six months since he wouldn't abandon his men) would spell the end of his military career. Even if he hadn't made quite so many enemies, or at least un-friends, in the upper echelon there, he had a solid distrust of the whole military establishment now; also, his personal life had undergone a dramatic shift, one that few would approve of, and the military not at all.

When he wrote any of his other family and friends back home, he was congenially vague; the recipients accepted that as probably being a military necessity; he knew it was due to total lack of desire on his part to share anything so personal. His view of the world, of certain concepts he'd rarely questioned before - so much had changed. He'd fought in battle, commanded men, been wounded, seen far too much death. He'd been put in charge of this extraordinary group of men, fought to mold them into a team and a team they had become, though sometimes he wondered just how much that was due to him and how much to a serendipitous collision of four men with so much potential for forming a team, no, for becoming brothers, that it just had to happen. He'd worked undercover, led impossible missions, dealt with success and failure; had been captured, tortured; had been courtmartialed by his superiors, only to be saved by his unruly charges. He'd encountered things he would have sworn could never be, seen things he prayed could never be again.

He'd been beguiled and enchanted by a pair of mischievious blue eyes and a cheeky grin, and later welcomed and embraced by a pair of gold-brown eyes paired with a serene smile; he'd been amazed to discover equally fierce spirits inhabited both of those he'd come to love so completely; while the second wasn't all that much of a surprise, the first, well, he wondered sometimes how such could have concealed itself so well for so long. 

Like the others, he was all too aware that the future was tenuous at best, but he knew one thing - if they survived, those he'd come to care about so much, he'd do everything in his power to see they had the possibility of a future, one other than a life on the run, a life sitting in a prison cell somewhere, a life ending at the end of a shiv on a cold concrete floor. Something other than an uneasy and uncertain make-shift life on the outer fringes of society. He had some ideas, and it was with those ideas in mind that he had driven down to the Cottage this warm spring day.

A bottle of good bourbon came out of the cupboard, the two big armchairs in the sitting room were considered, but Garrison thought this was too serious a subject for such an informal atmosphere, so he suggested the kitchen table instead, the library being maybe a little TOO formal.

As he outlined what he had in mind, a slow smile grew on Meghada's face. She heard him out, then "perhaps you would like to see what I had in mind; I think together we might make it work," and she brought out the plans, the notes, and a smile came to his face as well, along with a sigh of relief.

"That was one part of it I hadn't come to grips with yet," he admitted, knowing the many complications involved in establishing a base of operations where they wouldn't find themselves set upon by the authorities, those authorities possibly urged on by old adversaries, though he'd thought Actor might know of some place. Still, he'd hesitated to even discuss it with the con man, not yet, not till he'd had it more firmly in his mind. And, he had hesitated about taking the primarily English-speaking members of their team to a place where they would struggle with the language issue. And she let him look and ask questions and make suggestions, and when Goniff made his way in through the kitchen door he added his input, and they walked around the grounds together, through the renovated and expanded portion of the dwelling.

They sat in the garden together, talking over the details, and when the day was at an end and they retired, all three of them, to that wide bed at the side of the cottage, they were in good accord. This could work, it really could, IF they survived.

It was agreed that Craig would not delay in introducing the subject of staying together, continuing to work together after the war; Goniff though Chief in particular needed to hear that, know that there was still a place for him beside his brothers. Meghada agreed, but thought the words would not be unwelcome by the others as well. And, in truth, the words were not unwelcome, but sparked a fire inside each of them, a fire of resolution that it should be so. 

***

The war was over, the special teams were being evaluated for reassignment to clean-up duties, chasing down war criminals, helping with demobilization efforts. At the Mansion, the emotions ran hot and heavy; they had another few months before their paroles would be finalized, they'd gone on a few missions, in some ways not so different than before the war had ended, though they were expected to not use weapons or deadly force except under very limited prescribed circumstances. That went over about as well as expected with the guys, since the men they faced had no such constraints, and it was in some ways just as dangerous out there as before. Everything was more intense with the strain of the new style of missions, the anxiety about maybe being split up as a team before their paroles came through, even whether their paroles would come through. 

Goniff had written his Mum and Aunt Mollie, letters going through the O'Donnell courier bag to avoid the censors, telling them of his plans to stay on at the Cottage, and run The Doves, the local pub, with Meghada. He'd written before and as always, tried to tell them what they needed to know about Meghada, but everything came out too simple, or too stilted, not what it was really like, not like SHE really was.

"After all, telling them she's a fine cook, that she 'as a lovely voice, as dark red 'air, is ever so smart, and makes a fine garden don't really tell them anything about what she's really like. Don't know even if meeting her will tell them that, she's not so easy to show what's inside, not til you know her, and there's not many she lets that close," he told Craig, knowing, with some amusement, that description fit him just as well as it fit her.

And then again, there was much he just COULDN'T tell them; they'd never understand or appreciate her skill with weapons, or fighting; he didn't want to worry them by telling them of the close calls he'd had, including some where she'd been among the ones to save him. He couldn't tell them much about her family; they wouldn't understand that at all, and he doubted her family would appreciate him being so open jawed about their business.

He wasn't so worried, as such, that the two women in his family wouldn't accept his new love; he thought they'd do that for his sake if for no other reason, just as Meghada would accept the two of them. He just wasn't sure there'd be a real easyness there, though perhaps there wasn't a real need for that, if they weren't living in the same village, he finally decided.

He had no intention of mentioning his other love, not as such, though his letters always included some mention of Garrison, just as they did the other guys. He wasn't sure how far his Mum and Aunt Mollie's acceptance would stretch, and he didn't believe in causing himself problems if he could help it. Of course, that might be a bit difficult to hide if the two decided to come and live in the village, but that was something he'd think about another day, if it really happened. He'd love to have them close, but he had to admit it might be a bit touchy.

Still, his Meghada would find a way to make it all work out, he'd no doubt. Right smart, she was, and working hard on the 'being subtle' thing, though he'd admit as soon as anyone that she had a fair way to go in that area. Just seems it wasn't a Clan trait, that.


	2. Just Reward For A Job Well Done - POV Craig Garrison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He'd had such hopes, cautious ones to be sure, but had told himself the powers he'd served surely wouldn't stab him, stab them in the back, not after all they'd done, all they'd accomplished. Well, seems the powers had their knives ready, just waiting for the right moment. Now, the guys are gone, headed back to prison, and he'd been decommissioned and told not to interfere. Well, to hell with THAT! He can't do it alone, but then he's not alone, not anymore, and those wielding the knives might just find themselves the ones bleeding!

Garrison had been called to London to meet with his superiors about the team; he'd been hoping for some well laid out plan about how their last few months together would be organized, details of the paroles and transfer of the funds promised each of the men, something he could bring back and share with them to keep their morale up. He was doomed to disappointment; no, he was doomed to sheer rage.

He'd been afraid of this, in his darker moments, but kept trying to convince himself that the service he and his men had given would count for something with the brass, well, along with those Contracts that had been signed. Obviously not. The few generals he knew he could rely on were elsewhere, reassigned, some back in the States, some retired. Abernathy was in Germany, McCloud in France; he could probably reach them, at least Meghada could, but probably not in time to do much good. 

He was left with the pencil pushers, the ones who thought a deal with cons wasn't really a deal, who discounted the Contracts as being something that should never have been offered in the first place, and accordingly, didn't need to be honored. He'd been told that the men had done their duty like thousands of other men and now they'd go back to the life they'd been living before they'd been called to duty, just like those thousands of other men. The fact that their lives had been in prison wasn't the fault of the brass, it was their own, and the consequences of their own actions.

He himself was being decommissioned effective immediately, General Discharge, not an Honorable Discharge, and he was to consider himself lucky at that, he was told, because there were those who didn't consider he deserved even that, that he'd taken the part of 'those cons' one time too many, done too many things to protect them; he was told the topic of a 'Dishonorable Discharge' had come up, but been set aside, at least for now. Obviously he was supposed to smile and be grateful to them for that forebearance. Somehow, smiling and being grateful was beyond his capability right at the moment. 

He'd tried to call the Mansion to have Actor put their backup plan into action, to get the guys somewhere safe. There was no answer, none, not even the Sergeant Major or the Main Gate Guard. He tried calling The Doves; a voice at the other end told him they'd been told not to accept his calls - it had a military ring to it, that voice, it wasn't one of the locals, he knew that, certainly not the manager or his wife. He tried his sister's London flat; she may have been there instead of at the Mansion, though she could easily have still been on assignment; no answer. He tried the Cottage, without much hope; Meghada had left a few days ago on Clan business and hadn't returned by the time he'd left for the briefing. He left London in a blind rage, having to pull over more than once when he became too angry to drive safely. 

He arrived in the village, and drove to the Mansion. The guard standing in the middle of the drive allowed him in, but it was empty except for the few soldiers moving out the military equipment he and his men had used, from the cots to maps, spare clothing bundled into duffle bags, kitchen being stripped down to nothing. He went to the Common Room to see the personal belongings of his guys, Actor's beloved pipe amongst them, his ascots, Casino's pictures, the collection of small pieces Goniff used to exercise his hands, Chief's sheath and sharpeners, though not his knives, mementos, everything else they'd had to make this more like their own place, all thrown into a corner, like trash, and his anger seethed.

He went and demanded boxes from the soldiers, and they gave them over, wondering what he was doing; when they saw him gathering the bits and pieces, the Corporal told him, "just leave that, sir, it'll all go onto the burn pile with the rest of the trash when we're done here."

He glared at them and told them in no uncertain terms that none of this was trash; he'd be taking this, and the personal belongings of his men, his sister and himself with him.

"Your things, Sir, and the young lady's, those are already boxed up for you, but you needn't bother with this. I told you, we'd take care of it," but they didn't argue with him anymore. He looked over what he had collected, and realized there were things missing, and confronted the officer in charge, who was openly disdainful. Still, when pressed, he retrieved the items Garrison had demanded, including Chief's knives and the leather wrist band Goniff rarely removed and which must have been taken from him when the soldiers came, and grudgingly let Garrison look through the packed boxes and around the rooms for other things he recognized as belonging to the men, including that little traveling writing desk Goniff had arranged for Casino that Christmas, the specialty blades and their case he'd arranged for Chief that same year. ('The Best Gifts Of All') He carefully, gently boxed everything and put it all in his jeep.

He asked about his men, and was told, "couldn't really say, Sir." They stood staring after him, shaking their heads at the incomprehensible behavior of this officer; surely, you'd think he'd be GLAD to be rid of the responsibility of those ruffians!

From there he went to the village, to The Doves, to find an American Sergeant waiting for him at the bar. He got no answer to his questions, just the relaying of a firm message from London, a warning, to stand down, that the men were no longer a concern of his, and any action on his part on their behalf could see that General Discharge turn into an outright Dishonorable Discharge right quick.

The manager of The Doves was watching out of the corner of his eye, quietly signaling him, and Garrison held his temper with some effort. He knew what to do, so he wasted no more time with the Sergeant, who was, after all, only a messenger, though a decidedly unsympathetic one. He stormed out of The Doves, got in the jeep and drove off, but not far. He parked in amongst the trees behind the big garage, and made his way back to the rear entrance, not the public one, but the way certain goods made their way in unnoticed.

Corbey, the manager, was waiting, cigarette in hand, head down, not meeting Garrison's eyes, frown on his face. "I heard all that; what do you intend to do, sir? Where do you stand on this?"

Garrison knew what very few others knew, The Doves had been purchased by the Cottage over a year ago, same time Corbey came in as manager; he was another of the Clan Friends and Family, and his loyalty was to the Clan, and thereby, to Garrison and the men. Well, truth be told, to the Clan, thereby Meghada and then Goniff, and through them, to Garrison and the other men. ('Just A Quiet Friday Night At The Pub')

"Where do you think I stand?? They're my friends," pausing, then "they're my family!" finally admitting out loud what he'd admitted to himself quite some time ago. He looked at Corbey, who nodded his head in satisfaction, with an acknowledging grim smile.

"Yes, sir, I can see that."

"Do you know what happened, Corbey, where they are? Where did they take my men?!"

"Heard about it right afore they got to the village, after they left the base; seems they rolled out not more than half an hour after you'd left for London; left Rita in charge here and made my way up to the Mansion to see what I could see, since I couldn't get through on the phone lines to give them any warning. Got there just as they arrived; I'd just enough time to hide myself where I could see plainly all that was agoing on. Soldiers went in there, two trucks of them, all armed with rifles and pistols and the like, all the world like an invasion it was!"

He scoffed, shaking his head in disgust, "four men in there, hardly likely to take up arms against them, and they had, what, two dozen anyway coming for em, in addition to the guards already up there? Wasn't anything the lads could do; none of them were seriously harmed, that I could see, other than some heavy shoving and pushing, at least not then, though that Lieutenant was spoiling for there to be a fight, you could tell, but shackles they had on, legs and arms both. Seemed like Goniff and Casino might have taken some bruises at least, toward the end, the soldiers tossing Goniff around rough like, and Casino trying to stop it and getting a rifle butt in the gut for his trouble. Actor stepped in to keep em off Chief, though. Looked like the Sergeant Major tried to stop it, both at the beginning and when the rough stuff started, but he'd no luck; well, he wouldn't have, they had rank coming in with the soldiers. Lots of shouting to begin with, especially from Casino, til Actor put a stop to it, for fear of the lads getting hurt, I'd think. Heard that Yank Lieutenant, right full of himself he was, telling em they'd be back where they came from soon enough, but that they'd have to fumigate the Mansion to get rid of their stench. Telling em that those they'd thought to be their friends, well, they had no more use for them, now; so don't go expecting anyone to be coming after them. Right nasty he got with Goniff, about thinking he'd found an easy mark with a local woman of property. Had a couple of the soldiers hold him while he yanked off that wrist band, and backhanded him when Goniff snarled and snapped at him." Corbey spit off to the side in disgust.

Garrison turned and hit the side of the building with one open palm, swearing viciously. "After all they did, after all the blood and pain and danger and almost getting killed time and time again, nothing! They get nothing that they were promised!"

"What about my sister? What about Meghada?" Garrison rasped.

"Your sister wasn't here, not back yet from where ever she'd been sent to. The Dragon, now, I've notified her, you can be sure of that, and those curses of yours, well, have to say you and she had the same notion! Fair breathing fire, she was, before she calmed down enough to start giving orders. She told me to watch for you, get you on your way to a safe house; she'd see you there, and she'll see to gathering in Miss Lynn also. The Cottage won't be that safe for you, not for right now, and I'm to tend to em til things settle out. I've pulled out what shouldn't be lost," or with a grunt, "or in some cases, FOUND, like the weapons, files, radio, contents of the safe, that shadow ball she prizes so much, ('Glass Houses'), that red dragon statue she prizes even more, all that, in case anyone does something real foolish like try to strip em out like they did the Mansion, maybe even burn em out or tear em down even, if they make the connection. Took everything out the back way, through the woods, so it wouldn't be obvious. Everything can be rebuilt, she says, if that comes to pass, though doubt they'd be that stupid, being that's private property, outright owned, not on lease. She just likes to think ahead, she does," he nodded approvingly.

Then, with a big hand to Garrison's shoulder, "Don't you fret yourself, sir, you know she's not going to let the lads sit in prison, not her man, not the others. Those who tried this, they don't have a notion of what they've started, you know. Right peppery she is, her and the rest of them as well!"

This was accompanied by a kindly pat on his shoulder from the bulky redhead. Garrison left the boxes in the back of the garage, to be looked after by Corbey and Rita, took the small closed car thru the rear sliding door, and drove off to meet his contact, to make his way to a safe house, 

The safehouse was actually another mansion, to his surprise, tucked away in the heart of the better part of London's outskirts. He came to a tall gate, complete with guard, in uniform no less, though not one he was familiar with, and sent directly in. There he found his sister and Meghada. He hugged both, hard, deeply relieved to see them both.

"I wasn't sure you were back yet, if you'd have heard," he told Lynn.

She grimaced. "No one officially said a word to me, but I did notice no one was willing to meet my eye either; that's never a good sign! I'd finished my debriefing and was headed out, when Kevin bumped into me in the hall, sort of accidentally on purpose. He made chit chat and slipped me the address of a contact; when I went there, I was taken to another location and finally ended up here, where I heard the news. I'm relieved to see you, Craig; I half expected to hear you were in a stockade somewhere for slugging one of those assholes! I'd have considered it myself if I'd known while I was in the room with them." 

She grinned over at the red head standing by the fireplace, "she briefed me when I got here; she really cusses good, you know! Someday I'm going to have to get her to translate it into English for me!" 

He looked at his sister and gave a reluctant grin, "it'll probably make your hair curl!," and then raised his gaze to look at the O'Donnell woman again, "I'm sorry. I let them down, I let everyone down!"

She went over to him and hugged him once again, shaking her head over him and this compulsion of his, assuming responsibility, taking on guilt where there was none; she took a moment to tell him so, in no uncertain terms too, giving his shoulders a squeeze along with a tiny shake.

They had a complicated relationship, some would say; to her mind and his, it was rather simple. They loved the same man, and because of that, they loved and accepted each other. They were not in competition with each other and never had been. They were sometimes bedmates, but only when Goniff was with them, only when it was what he wanted, and they found it pleasing, but not compelling, and had no inclination to be together without him; he was their connection, their link. They were a Bonded couple, yes, but of a rather unusual sort, it relying on his and her links to the Englishman; but there was love, and to their minds, that was more than enough, and not anyone else's business anyway.

Lynn agreed; her brother was content in his relationships; as far as she was concerned, that was that, and she loved both of his partners, just as she loved the rest of the guys. Well, maybe Actor had a special place in her heart, but that was her own business.

"Do YOU know where they are?" he asked.

She assured him, "we're tracking them; we had no warning they were going to make a move just now, none of the red flags we had in place were triggered; I'm thinking it was rather spur of the moment, a brain child of one of those idiots who just transferred in to handle the demobilization, wanting to make himself look good, new broom, that sort of thing. I was afraid something could happen, though, so there are measures in place to help secure their safety, trace them, find them, and when we do, we will decide how to retrieve them."

She smiled a rather scary smile, "we've family and friends tucked into the clerical chain, here and there; while they can't negate such orders or even delay them much, any orders will be, shall we say, altered enough to provide them with an extra layer of protection, as much as we can, and we'll know the details any minute now. One of the ones who'd know the particulars of where they are to be sent and under what names was not on duty, but will be back there by now, and it's just a matter of getting the information out to the conduit; he'll be taken suddenly 'ill' as soon as he retrieves the information, and head straight back out."

She poured each of them a stiff drink. "It would be nice if we can arrange it so they get those paroles, still; in fact, the way this was handled, I'm thinking pardons might be more suitable, and immediately, not waiting til the rest of that 'six months' are up. I'd like for them to be able to have choices about the rest of their lives, you know, decide who and where they want to be, that they can see their families freely. Though if it can't be handled that way, well, it will still be handled, on that you can take my word! Those idiots, this would have been so simple if they'd just kept their word! For all of you to make it this far, to survive, then to face this!!" She shook her head, then motioned Craig to a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the desk when she saw him searching his pockets. "Settle, now, and we'll talk about this. Phone calls, radio messages should be coming in soon."

Remembering what she'd said, Craig turned to his sister with a frown, "Kevin Richards passed word to you? He's coming down on our side in this mess?"

Lynn snickered, "Kevin is coming down on the side of the Clan, which means coming down on our side. Truthfully, he's not been pleased with the attitude of the brass about the teams in general, about you or the guys, his personal hangups notwithstanding, and he's honorable enough not to like their notion that contracts are only valid when the brass wants them to be valid. He's made some more enemies today, being a bit more vocal about his disapproval than the brass would like or appreciate. And you know there's those who still don't trust him from before, not after that Wainthorpe debacle." She lit a cigarette for herself and, despite the seriousness of the discussion, had to give just a bit of a grin.

"Not to mention, seems like Kevin's got himself truly ensnared by one of the sisters, at least one, which I find unbelieveably amusing after all his preaching about their relationships and bad choices, propriety and morality and all that. I think that's influenced his thinking quite a bit, and his sense of self-preservation took care of the rest; if this comes out, he's finished anyway! I expect to hear of his retiring from the military at any time; I think he was just waiting til your crew got settled out properly. If it comes to be, him and the O'Donnell girl, the only place for him now is within the Clan proper, I'd say, and I would love to watch as all that shakes down! The culture shock will be astronomical!" she laughed.

"Richards and one of the sisters? Ciena? I didn't think she had the patience to deal with him."

Lynn got a really odd look on her face and in a rather strangled voice said, "actually, I think it might be Coura, at least perhaps an agreement that it be so when she's of an age he's more comfortable with! Though he and Ciena seem to have an attachment as well, so it may well be both of them. In fact, that was rather the impression I got when I saw the three of them together a few days ago."

Craig's jaw dropped and his eyes got about twice their normal size, "Coura?! She's like, what, fifteen, sixteen? AND Ciena?!"

Meghada interjected, "Michael was over a year old by the time Ma was Coura's age, so the Clan has no objections on that note, other than the fact that he's an officer of course, but I have to admit his being an officer is rather a challenge for the family to swallow."

Garrison gave her a rather reproving look, though not really meaning it, which she knew quite well. "And adding Ciena into the blend, well, two of a threesome being Clan members, it happens, though it is one of the more rare arrangements with the two Clan members being sisters. It will be two separate Bondings, of course - Kevin and Ciena, eventually Kevin and Coura - which in some ways makes things simpler, but in others more complicated. Poor Kevin!" she said with a laugh. The remarkably uptight British officer was really in for it! ('And The Dream Dies Aborning')


	3. Just Reward For A Job Well Done - POV The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd always expected to be shafted by the Brass, though they knew Garrison, the Warden, was doing everything in his power to keep it from happening. Just now, when there was a plan in place for them to stay together, keep working together, well, that made the whole thing seem even more damned frustrating, more infuriating than ever. Well, now they had to come up with their own plan, a plan to survive til help arrived. Because if there was one thing they knew, were absolutely sure of - Garrison and the Dragon would never abandon them. The only questions in their minds - how to survive til they were rescued, and how much blood would be spilled in the doing. After all, the Dragon did NOT do 'subtle', and Garrison had started taking after her more and more as time went by.

They'd been headed for the firing range under the command of the Sergeant Major when Private Jenkins ran up to the Sergeant Major, looking at them wild eyed, talking a mile a minute. The Sergeant Major turned to Actor in a rush, "there's soldiers coming in, with trucks; looks like they'd decided to pull a fast one. You and the lads best . . ." but then the trucks pulled in and the armed soldiers were on them in a flash, the Sergeant Major and his protests being overridden. Actor jerked his head around, and started to pull back, but the cocking of a rifle at his chin, brought him to a fast halt. The men protested, Casino getting loud and coming close to pulling a punch; Actor took a good look at the American Lieutenant heading this bunch and knew he had to stop this; the man was obviously just waiting for a good reason for this to get violent. Actor brought them to order, quickly; whatever was happening, they'd be better off without broken heads or broken bones to deal with! 

They weren't allowed back into the Mansion to collect anything; shackles were brought out, wrists and ankles bound, and them pushed toward the trucks. The Lieutenant sneered at them, looking them up and down, well, they'd seen those looks before, and they'd heard the kind of words he gave them now, telling them they'd be headed back to where they came from, something snide about having to fumigate the Mansion to get their stink out.

Then, "and you think you've made some friends, I'm hearing; well, look around you," he smirked at them, with a laugh, "I don't seem to see any of them here. You're no longer of any use to them; they're glad to be shut of you, don't expect any of them to be coming after you," giving an especially nasty look at Goniff, who looked back at him impassively.

"And you, seems you've tried to put it over on one of the local women; she must have been desperate, can see any of the others before YOU! Easy pickings, I'll bet you thought, one with a bit of money, some land, well, you can forget about that!" 

That leather wristband was forceably removed, to Goniff's fury, and his angry protests earned him a contemptuous blow from the officer. They were loaded into the back of the last truck, none too gently; Goniff was half-way up when one of the soldiers shoved him, hard, tipping him up and over, him landing hard on the bench and floor, to laughs. Casino rounded on the man, only to get a rifle butt to the stomach, and was tossed in. Chief they seemed to fear a bit more, and only one was brave enough to step into him, hard, and Actor was there to block most of the force; the soldier looked up at the very tall man in front of him, swallowed and stepped back, allowing the last two to make their way into the truck without further harrassment.

The other soldiers piled in after them, forcing the four cons to the space just in back of the cab, no space for Actor to check the two for injuries, not that he'd have been allowed to even if there was space. An attempt at talking by Goniff, who just couldn't keep quiet, was met with a sharp order, and upheld hand poised for a punishing blow, and the men settled down to wait for the next move.

At the base, they were unloaded and placed in the stockage, all in one cell to their surprise and relief. "It'll be alright," Goniff said nervously, "the Warden, the Dragon, they'll be after us in a flash, they will. Don't pay no nevermind to w'at that officer said; they'll not just leave us." Of all the things in the world, he had confidence in that now, a confidence hard won.

Though, thinking about it objectively, Actor thought, it wouldn't have been a bad con; just, not with that woman, not with that man. He was a second story man, a pickpocket, not a con man; she was, well, gullible, that wouldn't have been his first, his one hundredth word to describe her. Well, and there was the fact that she was Dragon, he was supposedly Mac Tire, Wolf, in addition to being a host of other titles, including Eileamh a Dragan and Marcach Dragan, both seemingly referring to his connection to Meghada. He figured there'd be no sense in trying to explain any of that to the military; it would only get them locked up pending psychiatric evaluation, which he didn't see as helping their situation any, plus the Clan not being appreciative of him talking so much about their business.

Goniff urged them, "we just 'ave to keep ourselves in one piece til then," though the expression in his face said he wasn't sure that was going to be so easy. They'd been away from the prisons for a goodly amount of time now; it wasn't just the idea of going back that was worrysome, it was that their survival skills in that atmosphere weren't as sharp anymore, though other skills had been honed to razors edge.

Casino broke in, encouragingly, "yeah, we'll just sit tight," trying to find a way to arrange himself on the bunk that eased the pain in his gut from that rifle blow. "Hey, the Limey's right, the Warden won't let us down, and can you imagine the Dragon? She's the one I'd say they need to worry about," with a look around, "she ain't gonna let them mess with Goniff, here, the rest of us either, that's for damn sure!"

Actor was looking very serious, very angry, too angry to think perhaps of what he should or shouldn't say to his friends, "Quite true, I just hope they leave enough of a trail to follow. I can think of any number of ways for us to just disappear, moving us to different prisons than where we came from, under different names, maybe into the military rather than the civilian facilities." The lines in his face deepened, as he thought of something perhaps worse, perhaps them not reaching a facility at all.

"If we do get to a prison," at which they exchanged a solemn glance, reading his mind now as to the worse possible scenario, "solitary would be the best place for us, to wait it out, if we can somehow arrange that," he said thoughtfully, but with a sympathetic look at Chief, to whom solitary was even more of a torment than to the others.

Chief looked at them, resolution in his dark eyes. "We wait it out; they'll come for us; they'll come." He, like Goniff, didn't trust easily, but those two, yes, he trusted they'd come after them, wouldn't fail them.

They were taken from the stockade at daybreak, a timing that made Actor break into a faint sweat considering his dark thoughts from the day before. He was actually relieved when they were herded onto a military transport; they sat, not saying much, especially after they were threatened by the guards. Upon landing, they were loaded into a prison van, and from there, made the trek.

One by one they were unloaded; the view unpleasantly familiar to each as they recognized the prison they'd last been in; nods of encouragement were exchanged as each departed the van, first Goniff at Sing Sing, then Chief at Attica, Casino at Leavenworth, and finally, making the last long haul by himself, Actor was left to his thoughts. {"Hurry, please hurry, there may not be much time"} as he paused slightly and steeled himself to walk inside the gates of Alcatraz once again. While he had confidence he could withstand what lay within, the others were more vulnerable, and he worried greatly about what might befall them in the meantime. He thought back to when he'd left this place, arrived at that huge house in England, when he would never have thought to worry about any of the others he met there.

The men had been processed but taken directly to solitary, to be kept in solitary for the time being, on orders from the military, supposedly, but in actuality, the orders from the military had been altered by the Clan's associates, for their protection; the orders also including certain safeguards that would cause the Wardens to be extra particular in ensuring their safety because "the military will be coming back for them and they'd better be in top knotch condition, no injuries, no bruises, no damages whatsoever, no excuses!" The Clan had been concerned even as to whether the guys would go back to their previous prisons, or even under their own names, having though of much that had passed through Actor's mind; they didn't know just how malicious or devious the brass would or could be; luckily, nothing too complicated was involved, just a gathering up and returning to their prisons of origin. That was all to the good. The Clan had ordered their inside people to more extreme measures if the orders had somehow been even more dire, something involving a firing squad for example; the orders were to protect the guys, public relations be damned!


	4. One Pissed-Off Grandmother!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She'd known when she took on the job that dealing with Outlanders was a big part of it. She'd studied them, their history, their cultures, their ways; had used that knowledge to form contracts with them, manipulate them when necessary for the good of the Clan, insert her own people into their territory unbeknownst to them, compromise with them to good advantage when it seemed best. When an agreement, a job, a contract, had the possibility for more than one objective, perhaps had the potential for a little ammunition against possible future need, she made sure to make full use of that. And, knowing them as she did, she kept good records. Damned good records! Her arsenal was jammed to the roofline, in fact. Now, she was pissed! Royally pissed! And the Outlanders were about to learn something the Clan had known for centuries - a pissed off Grandmother is just NOT a good thing!

The Grandmother of the Clan was livid; she had nothing but good will toward Meghada's lads and their brothers-in-arms; as far as she was concerned, they were indeed Family, and the Outlanders should have had better sense than to try to negate their contracts, to betray them. This would make the second time she'd experienced such, perhaps the third if you took into account what happened with Reagana, and she'd had more than enough.

The war was over, the common enemy defeated, and the playing field had shifted significantly. If these Outlanders thought contracts were things to break, thought their honor was something to play fast and loose with, she had a few things they might find it interesting to consider!

She took an angry sip from that glass of excellent bourbon, thinking again of how these men were more than deserving of Clan protection! They had answered a Gathering-In Call without hesitation to go to the aid of the Professor and his friends in Stalag 13, ('Rescue') and another on behalf of Kevin Richards ('And The Dream Dies Aborning'); they had seen to the welfare of the Clan daughters in many, many ways; they had taught Clan youngsters, willingly and well ('Subtle Just Isn't A Clan Trait'); one, then another had bonded to one of their women, and both were partners in building a new enclave; now, the Clan would be there for them. 

She requested that the Garrisons and the sisters stay least in sight for now, to retain the element of surprise. This would be handled at higher levels, and woe be to those who thought to face her down! She was right; there were those who smugly looked at the lack of immediate response from the con's supposed 'friends' and told themselves they'd been quite right; no one was going to get very upset about this, put themselves out; even Garrison had seemed to have gotten the message and backed off! Well, they were about to learn differently! She might be closer to a hundred than to ninety, now, but she had one good temper tantrum left in her, at least, and she was damn well going to enjoy it, even if THEY didn't!

The meeting was called, top level, major breach with the Clan over something the Allied Forces, the top brass had done, though no one knew quite what. Sufficeth to say, the Clan was royally pissed and well inclined to do something about it! Well, Major Richards, though not top brass by any means, indeed not much in favor anymore after he had expressed his unwelcome opinion of the latest actions toward Garrison and his men, had a goodly idea of what the flap was all about; he made sure he had a spot in the room, not about to miss this! He expected to regail Garrison with this story before long, over a decent bottle of whiskey. 

They were seated in a large room when she entered, complete with entourage. An old woman, straight and regal, in some perhaps military-type attire quite foreign to them and the more impressive for that, moving as if she owned the room and everyone in it. The escort, her warriors flowed to each side of her, another one leading by several paces, one bringing up the rear. She was seated at the head of their table, and the expression on her face was sternly uncompromising. No one outside ever knew all the precise details of the meeting, though rumors did flow like water.

Her representative spoke for her, her watching them with a cold look that made them shiver. Listing of contracts, confidentiality clauses cited, dollars paid, dollars due, information obtained, aid given, fielded agents and their assignments listed, foreign agents compromised listed, politicians bought and sold, and their various connections, all were supposedly mentioned, and much more. And the words 'agreements negated by your own actions'. NO mention by the Clan Representative was made of the guys or their situation, not yet.

The furor, the outcry was massive, since while most of those present knew about one or two of the items listed, no one knew all of them, and the looks of shock and outrage passed back and forth across the room would have been amusing at any other time. The various protests "we had an agreement, we had a contract, there was to be total confidentiality," was repeated time and time again, to be answered coldly, "YOU were the ones who decided that contracts could be ignored." Time and time again the Allied Forces clashed with Clan forces, in the strong person of the Grandmother, Senior Leader of the Clan, and her representative. 

Finally, someone had the sense to ask her, almost tearfully, "But WHY? What contract did we break with you?" and she told them, sternly and firmly, addressing only Garrison and the team, not the prior breaches, seeing no need to give them any more points to argue.

They were appalled and all took turns telling her so - all this over a bunch of garbage can hoods, cons - and she seemed to grow a foot taller, and her demeanor changed to total ice, and SHE, not her representative, answered them.

"You made a contract with them, you acted in violation of that contract. They are Family - a Contract with them is the same as a Contract with US! What did you think the Clan would do?? They are FAMILY!."

At that the silence was deafening, then the roar of protest, the refutations, she growing even colder, more remote as, appalled at her claim they started telling her she couldn't claim them as family, they didn't know why she would even say such a thing, didn't she know what they were?!

She slowly leaned back in her chair and faced them down, waited til the furor died down, to tell them with utter contempt in her stony voice, "we do not allow Outlanders to determine who and who is not Clan!" Her representative took over once again, "the contracts are to be fulfilled; in fact, we think it is now obvious that the parole MUST be changed to a full pardon, and effective immediately. And the funds set aside for them, to be delivered after their release, will be doubled, and put into their names immediately as well!"

As protests again swelled, she, the Grandmother, leaned forward and actually snarled at them. "Be glad I don't demand more! I am to have those papers in my hand at once, effective immediately, no further obligation on their part to you. THOSE MEN, MY FAMILY, are to be returned to me, safely and unharmed; I will personally select their escort from among your people. But you'd best act quickly; I have no patience left with you. If I have to handle this in my own way, well I am sure there are those, in fact," with a very nasty smile, "many, who will find what I have to say, on a wide VARIETY of subjects, to be quite interesting." 

The pallor in the room intensified; the Clan knew things NONE of them wanted the world at large to become aware of. One of the generals had the temerity to say, "and if we agree, you guarantee to say nothing, to enable all the existing contracts?" His words were met with a curled lip and raised eyebrow.

"This meeting is in answer to YOUR betrayal of YOUR honor, YOUR trust broken. Regain it, and right quickly, and we'll take no further action. However, should you decide to play fast and easy with it again, well. . . But think, gentlemen, all you have to do is to be the 'honorable gentlemen' you claim to be, and you have no cause for concern," she told them with a knowing smile.

She sat back in her chair, effectively dismissing them, and proceeded to hold court with the various men vying for her attention. Those who tried to sway her met with short shrift, those who tried to argue the value of 'those men' were turned away with contempt and anger, those who sought to flatter and fawn, she dismissed with disdain. A few she greeted with respect, and talked softly with them, Major Kevin Richards among them.

Finally the Aide to the highest ranking General there came forward and told her that her requests (her brows raised in obvious amusement at the terming of her demands as requests) had been considered, and would be met, and where did she want the papers delivered? And the, he hesitated, the men?

She told him her requirements, named Major Richards as one of the escorts and Sergeant Major Gil Rawlins as the other, in addition to two from her own staff, and he left. She did as well, with her entourage, all warriors, all well armed, following calmly behind her.

The men remaining in the room, those who had sought to defy her, breathed a deep sigh of relief, and hastened to give the appropriate orders. They did not want to have a second meeting with her, not under any circumstances. Those few who had thought, had considered perhaps detaining her and her people, showing them just who was in charge around here, well, somehow after looking into those cold gold-brown, even glittering eyes, they thought better of it, even hastened to wipe such thoughts from their very mind, wondering if she wasn't capable of discerning such thoughts and taking some action in return. 

It was a pity Garrison HADN'T been there, to see those eyes. They would have seemed very familiar, not LIKE exactly, but a great deal of similarity to another pair he'd seen recently, enough to give him pause.

 

***

The men had been retrieved by their respective prisons by a two-person joint operation, one military, the other a Clan member. It was of immense surprise to each of the men when they were escorted from their cell in solitary to the Warden's office to find, in Goniff and Chief's case, Major Richards and Coura awaiting them, the most forceful officer for the more vulnerable ones, in Actor and Casino's case, the Sergeant Major and Ciena. The Major and the Sergeant Major did most of the talking, of which there was very little, the written orders telling all that was necessary. For a wonder, the men were mostly silent as well, as the formalities were undertaken, even Goniff, well, as much as the talkative pickpocket was able with his Warden being a reasonable sort and all and remembering him from before, even taking special care that the little man was secured against any attempts by the remnants of Marston's crew. That had been some easier since the King had gotten his throat slit a couple of months back, effectively ending his reign. 

The women said and did little, seeming more like secretaries to the men, until they were in the car, when hugs were given freely by Coura and Ciena. 'What the hell!' seemed to be the main question, expressed in different voices and with different inflection, but all answered in pretty much the same way, "the Clan doesn't take kindly to people messing with anyone on the Friends and Family List, you know! And we wanted you home!"

Coura and Ciena each looked deeply into the faces of their friends, touching them gently on the cheek, "And are you alright? You've taken no harm? We saw to it that those were the orders those sniterilh up there received, but we need to know for sure. Truthfully, is there any care you need before we start back?"

Each was asked in turn, each honestly reassured the girls that they were indeed unharmed other than some residual bruises from the initial encounter with the soldiers. A nod, a deep sigh, a relieved smile accompanied by the glaze of tears in the eyes, and another warm hug, and a special whispered message into the Englishman's ear.

"It's all in place, just as you'd want it!" to which he responded with a huge smile and nod; and she drew him aside, took his hand and placed something around his wrist. He stood for a moment, touched the leather band, no, BOTH leather bands, with wondering fingertips, and smiled again, this time, a small, shaky but joyful smile, and they were all on their way. The two groups headed for the rendezvous point; upon hearing they were headed back to England, together, to be reunited with the others, they were relieved; they would have liked to know more, but since more wasn't forthcoming, they tried to relax and get their thoughts together. As long as they knew the four of them were okay and together, that the Warden and Meghada and Lynn were waiting, all snug at the Cottage, (though the women now were saying 'The Cottages'), they were okay with waiting too.


	5. The Village Is Buzzing!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corbey, manager of The Doves, was busy with cats; that is, letting a few out of the bag. While those who were in Brandonshire during the war weren't too surprised by some of those cats, not nearly so much as those who'd been away, even they raised their eyebrows at one or two of them.

The village was abuzz; word was the men were returning. Even those who'd been away knew which 'men' Corbey had to be talking about; they'd heard all the wild stories when they'd returned.

"The Mansion's all emptied out; where'll they be staying?" one patron of The Doves ventured to ask.

"At The Cottages, acourse," the manager told them firmly, "well, where else? The Lieutenant as was and his sister are up there waiting for them, along with the O'Donnell lass, naturally."

Most there nodded, in calm acceptance. Those not so much in the know gasped, those who'd been away, either serving as part of the military or civilian forces, or those taken refuge somewhere perhaps safer during the war years and only now returned, and had only heard about the residents of the Mansion by hearsay from those at the base, and the expansion of that small cottage into something now called by an increasing number of the villagers as 'The Cottages' not at all.

"The O'Donnell Cottage? But how'd there ever be enough room? And, I'd not thought they'd be welcome in a private residence, beings who they are and all." 

Corbey snorted. "Welcome as welcome can be, what with Goniff there being a joint partner in The Cottages, as well as owning The Doves here, like he and the O'Donnell lass do."

The reaction was staggering. While some of the locals might have guessed the first, none would have known the second, about The Doves. He grinned to himself; he'd been given leave to let all that information out of the bag casual-like to save need for any more formal announcement. When the room had quieted down, he continued.

"And all that work that was done a year and more back at The Cottages, that put everything in place; there's room enough and more for the lot of them. Well, family they are, more like than not, used to being together."

He then went on to remind everyone of the good that had been done the village by the woman and the guys. "Knew there had to be some mistake when the military took them all away like that; it had all been arranged for them well before, and they'd lived up to their part right and tight; arrangements were all set for them to move from the Mansion to The Cottages when that last six months was up. Well, you know how things get with the government and all; right hand not knowing what the left is doing. Would surely not like to be the ones what mucked every thing up. The O'Donnell lass is a good-hearted girl, as we all know, if you don't get on her rough side, though it's a different story if you do, but, well, you've all seen how she and Goniff are together; you've seen that collar she wears, the armband he wears - in her family, that's the same as wedding bands would be. An it hadn't been for him needing to be with the others for training and planning and being ready to dash out on those missions and all, he'd have been down at The Cottages permanent long ago; ye could tell that by the way he handled that remodeling whilst she was gone, knowing just what they wanted and needed, arguing out the cost of things, making decisions on changes and such, him being the one to authorize payments, and her Ma standing back, nodding like it was his full right and all. And then, when The Doves went on sale, the two of them deciding together it was just what they were looking for, beings they wanted to stay on in the village after. Just waiting til the military was done with him before they settled in together; well, I'd not want to be facing her if I'd been the one to muck things up!"

{"Alright"} he said to himself, watching the nods and looks and start of eager conversations, {"that's another piece of information laid out nice and open for them to exclaim over!"}


	6. Waiting With Open Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together they'd managed it, his dream and Goniff's and hers joined together, and if it wasn't perfect, it was pretty damned close! Now, they were just waiting for the final pieces of the picture to come together. Now they were just waiting for their missing family members to come home, for the picture to finally become complete.

All was in place again at The Cottages. The things that had been removed for safety, mostly files, weapons, the radio, contents of the safe, the most irreplaceable items, heirlooms and such, including that very precious shadow ball and the dragon statue Goniff had given Meghada, telling her that it 'reminded me of you soon as I saw it!' ('Glass Houses', 'The Best Gifts of All') had been restored; the pantries restocked with a special shipment from Haven and from other enclaves to provide for the increase in inhabitants. The pocket door connecting Meghada's bedroom and the new bedroom that replaced the old library was in place, both bedrooms expanded with the elimination of the pantry that had once sat between. The new bedrooms in the middle and far section were all furnished, comfortable, neat, with the salvaged personal effects of each man put into at least temporary place; new clothing in each closet (basic, but fresh, new, and in the right size; Actor had been the only difficulty there; they had came on to the idea of planning his around the measurements of his military uniform, though they were not sure how comfortable that would be; still, each had civilian versions of their khaki's in their closet as well, enough to get them by til new measurements, new orders could be made). 

Since this idea had come to her, Meghada had taken advantage of household sales to find good pieces, solid, well made, some antiques, to set aside for the future. What had still been lacking at the end of the war, she had commissioned to be built, though that had been only a very few pieces due to her forethought. Each room had a comfortable sturdy well-made bed, the one for Actor being longer than usual, built in storage, comfortable armchair, drop-down desk or a drop-leaf table, depending on the room, tall bookcases, open at the top, closed in at the bottom, along the hallway wall, warm rugs atop the smooth wooden floors, wide curtained windows complete with shutters. The colors were a mixture of rich and muted, all were well planned, lovingly put together. The rooms were large for a cottage, with one even a bit larger.

In planning, Goniff had made sure that, while all the new rooms had windows that opened, that let in lots of light and air, (memories of being shut in, unable to see the sky always with him), one new bedroom that faced the gardens had not only a large alcove window complete with a padded window seat, but also a Dutch door leading to a narrow stone-paved area that now stretched along the back of the cottage; that room they intended for Chief, with his greater need to be outside, or at least to be able to see outside; it was also the bigger one, since he was the one with more than a touch of claustrophobia.

The men could switch things around later, if they liked, but for now, they had a comfortable place, someplace intended for them and them alone. Maybe they would decide to stay here, make their base here, maybe not, but for now, they had a place they could call home, where they were welcomed as family. One room was for Lynn, and would be her room whenever she was here, her still being under service to the military for just a bit longer, cream and gold with touches of rich sage green, it was. It backed onto another, a guest room, this in the same colors, but reversing in intensity, primarily the rich sage, with touches of cream and gold, but where the walls were really sliding panels, though not obvious unless folded back onto each other. The thought there was that if, as Meghada thought likely, Lynn and Actor became a couple, those two rooms would become a larger suite, should they decide to make their home with the group. For now, his room was in the second grouping, across from Casino's and Chief's, but all that could be changed, as time saw the need. 

In fact, in the files there was already the start of a plan, labeled, Expansion, Part Two, showing the cottage now expanded with another set of rooms, all along the existing front, possibly with an atrium in between, so light would still enter somewhat freely; in addition, contracts now were in place to purchase the vacant land to both sides of the property, as well as the long expanse of forest to the rear of the expanded property line. There were nut trees intermixed with the others, which with some care should start producing all that they would need, plus more to share and exchange with other Enclaves, and she intended to start harvesting some of the other trees and start them drying for firewood for next winter, planting new seedlings to continue the longevity of the woodlot. Eventually, there would be two separate lots - wood lot and nut orchard.

She was looking into the food supply - feeding ten adults, eight of them men, would take some doing. Well, actually, only five men, but where food was involved, when one of those men was her Goniff, well, might as well round it up to eight and be done with it, she thought with a laugh. She'd already planned to double the kitchen garden, had Old Howie till up the beds she'd outlined. She rather thought a shares agreement with a few of the locals, where she'd provide the stock and feed, and they'd provide the land and labor in return for a share of the results - that might work well - poultry for sure, chickens, ducks, turkeys, for eggs and meat, maybe a few pigs here and there, goats for cheese and meat, a couple of dairy cows - that could work, and she had in mind a few of the locals who'd be inclined to such an agreement. Equally, an agreement with a couple of the local farmers regarding grain, and the land-greedy root crops like potatoes and marrows and turnips should prove worthwhile. She had Clan sources for the seed and stock; much of the grain shares would go to support the stock shares, the rest for their own consumption.

Enclave shares would still be coming in, but would have many more directions to go, and she needed part of it in cash, at least til she developed some income streams. She had the foundation started for a stonewalled greenhouse, unheated to be sure, but providing enough protection for year-round harvesting of greens and some herbs, and overwintering some of the more delicate perennial herbs - she knew that her three bay trees, only six foot tall, had provided enough to sell for a remarkable sum. They and a few of the other more rare items would continue to have a demand, though probably not for the same price.

There were local artisans, talented ones, who had had no real market for their wares; she thought maybe a co-op would be worthwhile; through the Clan, she had places these could be sent to be sold at a goodly profit. All of this would benefit not just the Enclave, but the village and the surrounding area; that was all to the good.

Now that the war was over, there were things she knew could be done; there were people she knew would be delighted if she'd start writing music and songs for them; she had two books almost finished that she thought might go over well. If needs be, she could do what Neal had wanted and do some singing professionally, but that would be pretty much a last resort; she wanted to be HERE, not elsewhere. She rather thought the others would have a few plans for adding to the coffers; she just hoped they'd stay out of jail while doing it!

All in all though, the more the Enclave could provide for its own needs, the less they would NEED to look to the outside for support. The Doves was self-supporting, plus provided some income, not a lot, but well worth having, if for no other reason than she rather though Goniff and Casino might enjoy helping Corbey run it whenever Craig wasn't keeping them busy, hopefully keeping them from being bored and dreaming up too much mischief; plus it gave her a legal source for purchasing their own liquor supplies.

She'd used up a lot of her cash reserves, certainly all of her Contract money, purchasing the new properties, including The Doves, renovating the cottages, but she'd set aside enough for taxes for the next several years, and enough to get all the shares programs into place, and the Clan would be willing to back her for the first couple of years if she ran short. The Clan had agreed that, even if all her hopes and dreams came to naught, nothing being a sure thing in this world, this was a good place for an Enclave, and there would be others more than willing to continue her work here if need be. It would not end with her, just as Haven had not ended with those who had gone before, and that was a good thing to think on.

The new large sitting room in the second section had been set up with the graceful multi-piece connecting table, each piece used as side tables to the several armchairs when not pulled and locked into their current use, surrounded by tall backed chairs, gathered from around the cottage, set for a meal. The kitchen was warm and smelling of a multitude of good things. All was ready, all were waiting, and oh, the waiting was hard!

Craig paced and paced; the two women thought it was good the cottage had such a long hallway now, and so many rooms, it gave him plenty of scope. He ended one such trip in his own room, well, the room he would share with Goniff whenever the blond wasn't sharing with Meghada. He smiled to himself as he remembered the conversation about whether they needed a third bedroom, each having their own, remembered their lover laughing and telling them, "no, save the space for a nursery when we need it," with a sly glance over at the pink faced woman seated across from him, "I like this arrangement just fine!" And truly, with so many rooms now, public and private, Craig could see his point; there'd be no lack of opportunities for solitude, if the man ever chose to seek that out.

He wondered just how much use he, himself, would get from this bedroom, looking at that connecting door with a warm smile, thinking of that wide bed just beyond the door. He paused in front of a long pier mirror, hesitating, then with a firming of his lips, opened the top three buttons of his shirt, and from the small drawer at the base of the mirror took out the collar. He'd never worn it before, not in the company of others anyway, but now, now was the right time. He'd talked to Meghada about it; she'd shown him the armband that matched the collar. He'd taken a deep breath and told her to have her sister take BOTH armbands with her when she went to retrieve Goniff. He'd wondered after he'd done that, whether he had the nerve for this.

He held it in his hand for a minute, looking down at the half-inch strip of leather, worked with dark beads and metal triangles, looking somewhat like arrowheads, same metal clasp and chain and dangling feather and claw and bead ornament as the one on Meghada's collar. Taking a deep breath, he fastened it around his throat, touching it with his middle three fingers when he was done. Then, a firm nod; yes, it was time.

Lynn fretted and fidgeted with tidying the various rooms, not that there was anything to tidy, everything arranged to perfection. She caught sight of Craig, her eyes widening as she realized what he wore, wondering how the others would take it, hoping for his sake, for all their sakes, it was well accepted.

Meghada found herself sitting at the kitchen table, supposedly to keep an eye on dinner, but in reality, gazing out the kitchen door, waiting, straining to hear the vehicles, to hear voices. She glanced up, and her heart stilled; she stood, reached out her hand to touch the leather at his throat, the collar that complemented the one she wore, and her eyes shone with glad tears. They shared a smile of warm understanding, and just a bit of nervousness, and continued their waiting.

Finally, the sound of a jeep pulling up outside the garden gate; the sound of voices, and Craig and Lynn rushed in from other parts of the cottage and all three went out into the garden to meet them. It was just the guys, Casino driving the jeep; the two women and Major Richards (soon to be just plain Mr. Kevin Richards) and Sergeant Major Rawlins had stayed at The Doves for a meal and a drink before heading back to London; they thought this should be a more private time, and while they were not strangers certainly, well . . .

Through the gate, Goniff quickly leading the way, followed by Chief, then Casino, Actor bringing up the rear. Meghada took the time to think that it seemed odd to see Goniff coming through the gate, over the wall being much more his style. Then, all thoughts left her, as he was in front of her, then she was in his arms, and he in hers, her head nestled into the curve of his neck, and all was well again.

Lynn was hugging each of the men, ending with a specially fervent hug for Actor. Craig was laughing and shaking hands with each man in turn, except for Goniff who was still otherwise occupied. When he finished the circle and turned and steeled himself, keeping his emotions well confined, he started to reach out a hand to Goniff, who was standing there with a wide grin, just a note of shyness in his blue eyes, only to receive a sharp shove in the shoulder from behind.

"Come off it, Warden, think we're all dumb or somethin'!? Give the little Limey his proper welcome! Ain't no one here gonna think nothin' of it, ya know!!" and with a startled look at each of their grinning faces, he knew that to be the case. Actor had known almost from the start, and Chief not long thereafter, or maybe the other way around. Casino, though, Goniff's best friend, he'd taken the longest to become aware, and had never been really comfortable with it all. Now, it seemed that had changed, and Craig knew that would mean a lot in making this new arrangement work to its best advantage.

He got a wide grin on his own face, turned and reached out one arm to pull the smaller man close, and he and Goniff shared their own greeting, as warm and as intense as what had passed between Goniff and Meghada.

Goniff stood back, eyes fixed on the leather collar, his breath tight in his chest, and face serious now, using the hand that now wore the second wristlet, reached out to caress it, moving his thumb over the leather like he did in selecting the proper decanter, and Craig shivered in anticipation of the night to come.

Meghada made the rounds of the others, dispensing warm hugs and pats on the cheek, receiving hugs in return. Then, "oh, the dinner!" and she dashed off to see to the kitchen. Chief grinned, thinking of the mission when the ever-hungry Goniff had told them, "after this is all over, I'm gonna settle down and find me a nice little" then making the universal hourglass shape with his hands, "cook!". {"Looks like he did, and a heck of a lot more!"} (Series Episode 'Breakout')

They all crowded into the cottage, passing though the kitchen as a busy Meghada waved them on with a quick, "on with you then, I can't have you under my feet right now," and a rich warm laugh to show she was teasing them, not that they doubted it.

Each of the men had a small duffle bag, all they now possessed, and Craig escorted each of them to the room designed for them, Goniff following eagerly to see if they'd liked what had been planned for them, what he'd had a large part in planning, though he'd not gotten to see the final results yet. Lynn also wanted to see their reactions though she'd already seen each room, indeed helped put everything in place.


	7. Home At Last!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even without a guide, even without their few personal possessions sitting in those rooms, they could each have identified the space set aside for them. Home - that's what each room felt like, someplace made just for them, a place they belonged - a place of comfort and ease, somehow familiar although they'd never set foot in there before today. The smiles that came to their faces were surprisingly similar, the warmth in their eyes and their hearts all Meghada and Craig and Goniff could have hoped for. Home. At long last, they'd come home.

Actor looked at the small well designed smoking stand beside the deep seated easy chair in his bedroom, footstool tucked to the side, both especially well suited to his extra height and long legs, all the furnishings rich and elegant, befitting his tastes, and a selection of familiar books on a wide bookcase lining one wall. He opened the small brass-rimmed humidor and inhaled the rich aroma of his favorite pipe tobacco, with his familiar pipe, left behind at the Mansion, along with a fine new one on a burnished pipe rack beside it. A wooden box containing the special stuffed dates he liked above all other treats sat on the small drop down table beside his bed. 

Casino found new pictures of his family, in addition to the ones he'd had before, lined up on a similar bookcase, with various items of his personal cache placed here and there on the shelves, including that lapdesk Goniff had given him for that first Christmas after they'd all become more or less family. Left on the bedside table along with the most recent letters from his family was a new box of stationary and pens, along with a box of the special walnut cookies he couldn't get enough of. There were also two shelves of books, plus a few larger ones lying down spines facing the room; he looked at them suspiciously, and his eyes showed his shock that they were copies of the ones he'd sneaked from the Mansion library, ones he thought no one knew he'd taken and read and enjoyed and wished he could keep, plus several new ones that someone had obviously taken great care in selecting. 

Chief went still as he walked over the threshhold of the room appointed to him; large and spacious, with a wide window in an alcove, padded window seat below, and a Dutch door to the outside, where the top could be unlatched and left open like a second window, or the entire door left open if he liked, a tiny paved area outside joining the walkway that passed along the entire rear of the cottage, gardens immediately ahead, forest beyond. The wide window had a much deeper sill on the outside, built up with stone from below, forming a snug lookout point for someone to perch to greet the morning sun. A patchwork of earthen colors, terra cotta, umbre, rich gold, rich green, with tiny touches of a rich blue, met his gaze wherever he looked within the room. Here the chair had a drop leaf table beside it, already adorned with a simple but elegant chess set, and a second chair folded against the wall. His bookcase also held copies of books from the Mansion, from the simple ones he'd started with, to the more complicated ones he'd been reading when they'd been forced to leave. His knives, sheath and sharpeners sat on a different shelf. On the small table beside his bed he found a new book, hand bound, privately printed with the production mark of the Clan: stories, poetry, songs of the Apache Nation, both in the original tongue and with translations. Another box cookies, these with raisins, sat beside the book, awaiting his pleasure.

They each stood in their own room and thought of the love and knowledge and care that had been put into preparing this for them, and they felt they'd come home, for some of them, after a very long journey. They all left their duffles in their rooms, and followed the sound of voices back to the middle section they'd passed through. There they noticed more closely the big open room the full depth of the cottage, to the garden side being set up with floor to ceiling bookcases, full of books, all types, closed cabinets at the lower third of some of the cases, as well as a solid and well built office desk and chairs; the back wall, facing the gardens, held large windows, no, big double French doors, capable of opening the room entirely to the garden if desired, equipped with shutters and coverings, but for now framing the view of the outside. To the other side, facing the front of the cottage, what would serve as a sitting room, with arm chairs scattered around the walls, more bookcases lining all the free walls, but for now with the center of the room taken up with what appeared to be several matching tables that, at other times would serve as chairside tables, but for now all pushed together to make one large dining table, with enough chairs for them all.

The table was set for a meal, and as they stood there, looking at their surroundings and at each other in wonder, a call from the kitchen, "I could use some help in here, if anyone is available," and with a laugh they all trooped down the hall to receive platter and bowl and basket and jug and bottles of wine, all for the welcome home feast to come. The food and drink placed, each of them pulling out a chair and pushing up to the table, they paused as Meghada looked around the table from her place at one end, and solemnly, but with a quiet fervent smile, said what was in her heart. 

"Welcome home, my dears, welcome home. The Sweet Mother's blessings on us all."

And in the night that followed, there came a rededication, between Eileamh a Dragan and the Dragon, between Eileamh a Curadh and the Warrior, and the others in The Cottages heard the faint far away music, and chuckled, and rolled over to sleep, content that all was now as it should be.


	8. The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actor had wondered, as perhaps they each had, how things would change after the war, how they would deal with living at The Cottages, working together. Perhaps it should have come as no surprise when they each came to the realization, each in their own time, that the old saying was right - 'the more things change, the more they stay the same'. Well, for the most part - morning coffee was certainly a bit different, at least sometimes!

Actor had wondered how it would all work, wondered if there'd be awkwardness in living their lives so closely together.  No, not running the missions, well, now they were calling them 'consultations', but pretty much the same type of stuff though hopefully with fewer explosions and bullets flying.  Those they'd had so much experience at, it was second nature by now.  But the rest?  Well, that was a learning experience. They were together, just like up at the Mansion, but not TOGETHER, each having their own space now, not all sleeping in the same room. Well, mostly, but for Goniff and Garrison, it was still pretty much a change since they HADN'T, not at the Mansion anyway.  

And Meghada?  Even though this was originally HER home, she had made every effort to let them think of it as their home as well, not even setting down any rules at first.  Though that had changed, but not with rules, just 'guidelines', a few requests, suggestions gently voiced as the occasion seemed to warrant.

"Casino, if your ladies are going to sleep over, perhaps you could serve them morning coffee in the kitchenette near your room, not in THIS kitchen, which, if you will remember is in our PRIVATE quarters, is right next to our bedroom?  That was just a trifle awkward this morning; the lads and I tend to be rather, well, casual, about clothing sometimes, especially that early in the day??"

Casino had agreed; Margie had certainly gotten an eyeful, not that she seemed to have been complaining, though he thought it would take Garrison and Goniff awhile to stop blushing.  He grinned at the memory of those two, standing there arguing about whose turn it was to make coffee, not a stitch between them, when he and Margie had strolled in, {"who knew a blush could go that far south??!"} 

A week or so later, as she patched up the entire moaning and cursing lot of them, she told them calmly, "Chief, remind me to have Goniff show you the practice range I set up in the tunnel off that old third cottage section; it has all kinds of targets for all of you to use - no guns, of course, don't want to bring the walls down, but it's well lit and anything with blades would work well there.  I'm afraid the bees didn't much appreciate that missed throw Casino made; they're rather sensitive about their hive, you know?"  

The little conversation she had a few months later with the entire team, though, that had gotten a little crisp. "I quite understand that the temptation of rummaging through old Lord Bellows' house was irresistable; he is a rather avid collector, and I doubt even HE knows what all he has stuffed in that big place.  Still, his residence is well within the geographical area I mentioned I'd prefer to consider 'off limits' for any 'collecting' of your own, since we're trying to stay on good terms with the local constabulary.  Therefore, by the time I've finished picking the greens for dinner, I really would appreciate those four little items to be waiting for me on the sideboard; while his sister, luckily, found all of this rather amusing, and has no intention of sharing any of this with His Lordship or with Ben Miller, I'd like to keep it that way by returning those items when I stop by her place in the morning for tea."

Her lips had been trembling ever since she'd gotten off the phone with Esme Bellows, though Garrison wasn't sure if that was due to irritation or amusement, considering one of those items described was a stuffed hedgehog wearing a lace collar!  No, he did NOT intend to ask Goniff what the great appeal was there; frankly, he didn't want to know!

There had been a few other little episodes, but things had settled down nicely.  They hadn't even had too many injuries, not even on their 'consultations', not until that night at The Doves when Mackenzie Jenks, who'd been away serving in an Infantry regiment, heard a retelling of those rather involved goings on with the Playmaster and those amateur theatricals. ('Amateur Theatricals'.).

As Mrs. Wilson said later, "Mac was never too bright, you know, and tended to listen to Doby Clevens far more than was sensible even when they were young.  Nasty-minded little boys, the pair of them!"

Well, that was proven right then and there, when Doby started whispering and snickering off to the side, Mac nodding his head, then, in obvious denial of any common sense, started making snide comments about Rebecka Rawlins, nee Standish, AND about Meghada O'Donnell.   Gil Rawlins, now the loving husband of said Rebecka, and firm friend of the O'Donnell miss, the former Sergeant Major no longer being under the admonitions of the military as to appropriate restraint and decorum, decided he didn't care to hear any more, and proceeded to lay Jenks out cold.  Unfortunately, Jenks had been accompanied by a few of his old infantry buddies, the men from The Cottages weighed in on the side of Gil, of course, and things got hot and heavy for awhile.

The first Meghada heard of it was when they roared up to the garden gate, helping a wavering Casino out carefully, yelling for her.  She opened the door with a deep sigh of resignation; this had been her first evening totally alone in some time and she'd been making the most of it.  Her hair was still wet and streaming loose down her back, glossy from that herb rinse she'd poured over at the very last moment;  a small tempting treat, just for her, sat on the table along with a small glass of bourbon, that new book waiting for the first page to be turned, and the polish still damp on her toenails.  No, that latter had never been her style, but it seems her guys thought it hilarious for a Dragon to be sporting bright red toenails, so she'd taken a second look at that small bottle of nail polish Chief had brought her as a joke and she'd decided "why not?" knowing it would have Goniff in stitches. And that treat?  Well, those six thin narrow strips of beef, seared ever so briefly over a high flame, center perfectly raw?  Not what any of the others would relish, perhaps, but she certainly did.  {"Oh, well, maybe some other time,"} as she glanced back and watched Maxie helping himself to the lovely treat his mistress had so inexplicably abandoned.

"Did someone send for AJ?" she asked as she made a hurried examination of the battered man in front of her.

"Doc's got a baby on the way; says he'll be here as soon as he can, but it might be awhile," Chief explained.

"Well, let's get him inside," motioning to the kitchen door toward the hallway to Casino's room, only to have Chief shake his head, "let's take him in through my door; probably better keep him in my room anyway, more room, and looks to me like he's gonna need some help for awhile.  The one that settled on Casino was built like a bull!"

That made sense, and they proceeded to half carry their safecracker in through that Dutch door off the garden that had been installed just for Chief, so he would have access to the outside whenever he felt the need.  

Now, she watched through the long night, no, for the second long night.  AJ Riley, Clan Friend, doctor, had come twice now, the first time to confirm what she'd already known, the brash safecracker had a number of broken ribs, a concussion, and assorted other more minor injuries.  Fever had accompanied the pain, and AJ had cautioned them about complications, stressing the need for someone to be there at Casino's bedside constantly, to call him immediately if the situation worsened.  Well, of course, anything else would have been out of the question.

Craig was gone, along with Lynn, both having been in Amsterdam meeting with a client when the fight at the pub had happened; they weren't due back for another three days, and although the team had hesitated at first, finally felt the need to at least send a cable letting them know of the situation at home.

Now she sat, waiting, watching.  AJ had been right; not five hours ago Casino had shifted, let out a harsh gasp and then a deep moan, and the flecks of blood had started appearing on his lips.  A quick call and AJ was back, doing what could be done for a collapsed lung; the insertion of the long needle and tube had sent Goniff reeling for the closest basin, his stomach being as twitchy as always; still, the wiry blond was back quickly, more than a little green, but firmly determined to help as best he could.  She'd sent him off to get some rest about an hour ago; she and Chief now shared the vigil.

They spoke but a few words, but the sounds of their thoughts were heavy in the still night air.  She knew she was remembering all the good times, all the bad times.  The times Casino had been there for them, each of them.  Chief was dozing now, she thought, and she reached out for Casino, checking once again, just to be sure his spirit was staying close at hand, waiting for his body to start the healing.  So far it hadn't strayed too far, but she'd started to notice a tendency to drift, and she wanted to nip that in the bud immediately.

"You think he hears us when we talk to him?" came from the other chair, and she knew Chief had wakened to the sound of her whispers.

"I believe so.  Even if he makes no sense of the words, and he very well may, the sound of a familiar voice helps tether him here," Chief being one she could talk to of such things more easily than the others.

The dark young man nodded, "like you did with Goniff that time with that professor." ('Perchance to Dream')

"Yes, and like Actor says he did in Germany that time. ('Point of View')  In any case, I can't imagine it doing any harm."

And as she settled back into her chair, after pouring them each another cup of coffee, she heard him take up the responsibility, his voice calm and quiet, reassuring but quite firmly letting Casino know he wasn't to go anywhere.  She gave a gentle huff of amusement; that had to have been the longest stretch of words she'd ever heard come from the young Indian.  And eventually, as the night grew longer and Chief's voice got lower, softer, some of those words, those thoughts?  Well, they weren't quite what she'd been expecting, and she knew there was a depth of emotion that had probably never before been voiced, perhaps expressed in any manner.  She shook her head, thinking to herself, {"Chief, I hope you know what you're doing; you KNOW how he gets!"}.

She roused to the sound of Chief explaining what they were doing to Actor, who'd come in to relieve him, heard the younger man slip off to catch a few hours sleep in Casino's room.  Meghada had been adamant that while the others switched off, it was imperative that she remain, and no one argued with her, though now she rather thought Casino would be almost as safe with Chief at his side. He understood, the others she couldn't be sure they would recognize when Casino started to drift away, would need that gentle urge to return, stay closer.

Twice before the day was over she'd had to reach out, not that she would have known how to explain that to any of the others, well, other than Chief maybe; how to reach out, remind Casino that he was needed HERE, with people who loved him, depended on him.  Remind him of all he was to them, all he had given them, continued to give them.

Goniff, settled into the other chair, listened to her low whisper, "and perhaps most of all, you've shown them how to play.  They'd forgotten, you know, that is if they ever even knew. With Goniff, I think it looked like he did, but I think that was more just part of the mask he wore, that 'playfulness'; you taught him how to play in earnest.  You let them see there is a lighter side to life, that it doesn't always have to be so grim.  Each of them are the better for that, by far.  As am I, for you reminded me of that as well, Casino.  We can't do without you, brother; you need to stay with us."

He watched and waited, til she sighed, patted the hand of the man laying so still in the bed, and said with a smile of satisfaction, "that's it, Casino.  You just stay right there, and it'll be fine.  You get yourself back together and I'll dig out that Italian cookbook again, see what we can come up with for a real feast, something even your mother would be proud of."

A faint chuckle from that chair behind her let her know her own laddie had heard that last and approved of that idea.  "Doing better now, is 'e?" Goniff asked quietly.

"Aye, I believe so.  Now I think it's just letting his body rest and heal."

"You 'ear that, Casino?  And you'd better just 'op to it! Remember all that lovely stuff she puts together when she gets out that cookbook?  Ei, can 'ardly wait!" ('Learning To Trust - Casino')

When she once again heard that aggravated outburst from their green-eyed lad, she knew for certain that Casino was back to normal.

"Well, I don't CARE if the coffee pot isn't working in the kitchenette, Casino! We said no outside company in THIS kitchen before seven o'clock, and we meant it!" all to the accompaniment of high-pitched giggles from whichever female was currently in the kitchen next to the bedroom.

Goniff just laid back on the bed, grinned and raised his brows high, "wonder which one 'e 'as in there this time?" as a red-faced, well, pretty much red all over Craig Garrison rushed back through the door, slamming it behind him.

"W'at, you didn't bring the coffee?" got the smirking Englishman a fast pillow to the head as Garrison moved to the closet to retrieve something in the way of clothing, along with, perhaps, his lost dignity.


End file.
